Just Your Typical Family
by Entaria
Summary: Sam and Dean get locked in a closet by a poltergeist, and end up reliving some childhood moments while they wait for Bobby to get them out. Oneshot.


**A/N: So, this was for a "story exchange" that... well, it didn't end up working out. ANYWAY, the prompt was "childhood broken bones" and this is what came out. This was written a while ago (I actually forgot about it until today!). I mostly wanted to just right some banter between the two of them and get a "typical family moment" you might see between brothers. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Supernatural and all related characters do not belong to me.**

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Just Your Typical Family...

"DAMMIT!" Dean yelled, rattling the handle. "Bobby? Bobby!" He slammed his fist against the door.

"He's probably a little busy right now Dean, if he can even hear you," Sam sighed.

"This is all your fault you know," Dean grumbled.

"What? How is it my fault?" Sam shoved a couple of large coats out of the way so he could see Dean better.

"If you'd been paying attention we wouldn't have gotten shoved into a freaking closet," Dean started searching his pockets for something to pick the lock.

"Oh, if _I'd_ been paying attention," Sam tried to cross his arms. The effect was considerably reduced by the fact that he could barely move because of all the coats.

"Yeah," Dean managed to locate a toothpick and pulled it out, smiling. "Now, let's get outta here and kill that son of a bitch."

Sam rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall, arms still crossed.

A few moments later he heard a faint snapping sound.

"Uh-oh."

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath, praying for patience.

"What did you do?"

"The toothpick, it uh, it kinda snapped off in the lock."

"Nice going Dean."

"Hey, it's not my fault we're in here."

"No, it's my fault for not paying attention while I saved your ass."

"Damn right."

Dean crouched down and started working at the lock again with the other half of the toothpick. He didn't have much luck.

"Dammit," Dean slammed the door with his palm. "Ow!"

"You okay?"

"No," Dean muttered. "I got a splinter."

Sam sighed, rubbing his forehead with a hand and trying not to give in to the murderous thoughts passing through his mind.

"You know what, we're not getting out of here any time soon, we'll just have to wait until Bobby deals with the poltergeist and comes looking for us," Sam started pulling coats off their hangars and putting them on the floor to sit on. Dean followed suit.

"You know, I feel like this has happened before," Dean said, dropping onto the coats.

"It has," Sam folded himself into the tiny space on the floor. "When we were kids. Remember? Something got into the house. Dad didn't want me involved, so he told you to hide me somewhere and get back there to help him, and you somehow managed to get both of us locked in the closet under the stairs."

"Yeah, I remember Dad was furious."

"Well, it was pretty stupid."

"Shut up Sammy," Dean threw the half toothpick he still had in his hand at Sam. "Hey, wasn't that the day you broke your arm."

"It was the day after. I had to spend the night in the hospital."

"Right, I remember. God, you howled like you were dying, and you wouldn't stop whining for weeks."

"I seem to recall you didn't fair any better when you broke your ankle."

"Well come on, I had to walk on the thing after, at least you could get around without using your arm."

"I had to have surgery on it, Dean."

"Hey hey, let's not make it a competition," Dean held up his hands in defense. Sam rolled his eyes.

A few minutes later Dean spoke again.

"Hey, Sam, do you still have the scar?"

"Are we still talking about this?"

"Yeah. So? Do you have it or not?"

"Um, yeah, it's pretty faded now though."

"Can I see it?"

Sam scrunched his eyebrows, "Why?"

"I don't know, just, comparing old battle scars, y'know?" Dean punched Sam's shoulder.

"Battle scars? Dean, I was five, and you pushed me out of a tree."

"Well, yeah, but, it's a scar, it's cool," Dean said, grinning from ear to ear. Sam looked at him in disbeleif.

"You haven't matured at all since then, have you."

Dean's face fell, and he turned back to face the door.

"I'm sorry I pushed you out of the tree," he said softly a few minutes later.

"What?"

"I said, I'm sorry I pushed you out of the tree."

Sam laughed, "You're apologizing for that now?"

"Well I just... felt kinda bad about it. I did then too, but... I don't know, I guess I was too embarrassed to say anything," Dean ruffled the back of his hair, then looked over at Sam with a hopeful smile on his face. "So can I see the scar?"

"No."

Dean pouted, "Grumpy."

Sam rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time that day.

Fifteen minutes later, the silence was broken again by Bobby's shouting.

"Hey! In here!" Dean shouted, kicking the door. "Finally," he muttered to Sam.

The doorknob rattled, and they squinted at the sudden flood of light.

"What the hell are ya doin' in there, ya idgits?"

The brothers pointed at eachother.

"It's his fault."

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**A/N: Please review! I hope you liked it :)**


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